


Late

by octobersmog



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: i just love my trash son a whole lot okay, this is vv self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 08:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octobersmog/pseuds/octobersmog
Summary: Reader is late for work and ends up being partnered with the one person they hate the most: Gavin Reed.





	Late

**Author's Note:**

> oOf i’ve sitting on this for a few days and chickened out of posting it a few times skdjskjsk but i did it for my favourite trash boi. apologies for anything ooc. (also holy shit??? this is so long??? like wow i got really carried away w/ it lmao)

You were late. Horrifically late.

When you went to bed the night before, no amount of sleep could have prepared you for the shitstorm that was today. Somehow, you'd overslept, despite your early night, then your coffeemaker had broken; and to top it all off, your car had a flat tyre. Trying to catch the bus had been a bust, so walking had been the only other option.

You stumbled out of the elevator, gritting your teeth as most of the eyes in the room turned to you, Y/N L/N, who had always prided themself on being on time for work. You made a beeline for the break room, hoping to grab some much needed coffee before Fowler got wind of your late arrival.

"L/N."

You froze, turning to meet the angry face of Captain Fowler standing in the doorway of his office, arms crossed. "My office. Now."

Reluctantly, you turned and slunk toward the captain's office, the snickers of your colleagues following you all the way to door. No sooner had you stepped in the door than your eyes landed on the one person you really hadn't wanted to deal with today: Gavin Reed, who was standing by the captain's desk, a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly enjoying what was about to unfold.

You stopped in front of the desk, hands clasped behind your back. "Captain."

"You're late," he stated, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"I know," you blurted. "And I'm so sorry, but I got held up with-"

"I don't care what held you up," Fowler cut you off. "I care that you're late. I had your colleagues pick up your cases. You're going to be helping Detective Reed."

The grin slowly slid off Reed's face as he realised what the captain had said. "What? I don't need help. I'm perfectly-"

"I don't want to hear it, Reed. The files are at your desks."

The captain began filling out some paperwork, clearly finished with the conversation, leaving both you and Reed slack-jawed and staring. You were the first to leave, refraining from slamming the door in Reed's face out of frustration. You went straight for the break room, leaning against the counter as you finally took a sip of your coffee.

So, that was the captain's idea of punishment; partnering you with the one person in the building that never failed to get on your nerves. You thought about storming back into the office, demanding to be take off the case, or at least being partnered with someone else, but all that would get you was unemployment. 

You pushed yourself off the counter, deciding that it'd be better to get the case over and done with rather than drag it out. Reed glared murderously as you went past his desk, no doubt wishing he could jump over the desk and throttle you. Plopping down in your chair, you tapped the keyboard, pulling up the case file and skimming over it.

The gist of it was that a red ice dealer's business had been booming as of late, and he needed to be taken down. There was an address, unfortunately for you, in the bad part of town.

You jumped as a hand slammed down onto your desk, shaking the contents.

"Why'd the fuck you have to be late?" Reed snapped, glaring down at you.

"First of all," you growled. "Get your hand off my desk. Second, if you keep behaving like an asshole, I'll slam your head into a fucking wall."

Reed glowered at you, but removed his hand from your desk, crossing his arms. You didn't give him a chance to think up a reply, getting up and marching past him to the elevator. "We're going to search the house. And we're taking your car."

-

Reed pulled up in front of the house, wrinkling his nose at the sight of it. "Looks like fuckin' shit."

"As if yours looks any better," you scoffed, getting out of the car and making your way up the weed ridden pathway. You knocked on the door, listening for any indication that someone actually still lived in the dilapidated house. You knocked again, Reed huffing impatiently behind you.

"Guess nobody's home." 

You 'hmphed' in agreement, stepping back as Reed kicked the door open.

The inside of the house was just as bad as the outside. A thick layer of dust lay over what little furniture there was, and a musty smell hung about the place. The living room looked like the only room that had been recently used. Drinks cans were strewn across the floor and the stained, moth-eaten couch stank of alcohol.

"My apartment looks like a fuckin' palace compared to this," Reed muttered, kicking at a can. 

The kitchen was nearly enough to make you gag; bits of rotten food stuck to the walls, as if someone had just flung plates of food at them. The fridge was empty, save for a carton of milk that had long since expired.

You entered the bedroom, cringing at the heap of mouldy sheets on the bed. Reed followed you in, poking around in the closet, which he soon discovered was empty. 

"Where do you think he's keeping the drugs?"

Before you had a chance to reply, a loud bang echoed through the house

"Please tell me that was the wind," you muttered, silently praying that it was the wind, and not some druggie with a gun coming to blow both your brains out. Your breath hitched as footsteps sounded down the hall, accompanied by drunken mumbling.

Before you had time to think, Reed had barrelled into you, shoving you into the closet, before easing the door shut behind you, closing you both in. You were trapped between the freezing cold wall and the back of Reed's jacket, not having anywhere else to go. Your hands curled into the material of his jacket, listening as whoever had stumbled into the house entered the bedroom, muttering and slurring.

"It's him," Reed hissed, watching through the gap in the door.

"Fuck," you breathed. You slowly reached back into the waistband of your pants, hand closing around the cool metal of your gun. Different scenarios raced through your head, each of them ending badly for you and Reed. You were torn out of your thoughts by Reed reaching back, grasping your hand and squeezing.

"On my count," he whispered, pulling out his own gun. "One. Two. Three."

You both burst out of the closet, guns trained on the man knelt on the floor, a package of red ice in one hand and a gun in the other. 

"Drop the gun!" you shouted, eyes flicking over the rest of the room, checking for any other threats.

The man's eyes widened in surprised as he raised the gun, firing blindly.

Pain blazed though your arm as you dived into Reed, knocking him over and landing on top of him, firing. There was a thud as the dealer hit the floor, a pool of blood blooming around him.

You let out a shaky laugh, flopping back on top of Reed, breathing heavily. "Holy fucking shit."

"Great. Now get off me."

-

"It's only a graze," the android paramedic assured you as he bandaged your arm.

You thanked him, carefully rolling down your sleeve and slipping your jacket back on.

God knew you were grateful that is was only a graze. Reed hadn't been hit at all, which was slightly irritating, being the smug bastard he was; but you were glad he was alright, as much as you hated working with him.

"Hey." Reed came up beside you, hands stuffed in his pockets. "You alright?"

"Just a graze," you replied, smirking as you looked sideways at him. "Why? You worried?"

"Fuck no."

You snorted, watching the small group of squad cars pulled up in front of the house. 

Reed shifted awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you. "You, uh, want to grab a drink?"

"Yeah. God knows I fucking need one." You shoved your hands in your pockets, already striding towards the car as Reed followed behind you.


End file.
